Perfect Fit (Small-Town Secrets-Fairview Series Book 4)
Page 1
Perfect Fit
Small-Town Secrets: Book 4
By Sophia Sinclair
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters to actual people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 by Sophia Sinclair
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever, or by any electronic or mechanical means, without written permission from the author, except for brief quotations in book reviews.
Cover design copyright Vixen Designs.
Chapter 1
Julie’s cell buzzed just as she was about to fall asleep after a late night of studying. She sleepily glanced at the screen. It was a client, Patty Gleason. She’d been expecting this call, but had hoped it wouldn’t come until after the big exam she was preparing for.
“Hey, Julie, this is it, I think,” Patty said. Julie sat up and rubbed her eyes, willing herself awake.
“How far apart are your contractions?”
“About every three minutes? Anyway, we’re going to the hospital right now.” Julie could hear the sounds of a car door closing.
“OK, I’ll be there shortly,” Julie said. She judged she had time for the briefest of showers before heading to Fairview Medical Center. Patty did not sound like a woman in hard labor, and she hadn’t had a contraction in the time they’d been on the phone.
She went down the hall to the bathroom and quickly showered, pulling her long red hair into a messy bun so she wouldn’t have to take time to style it, and dressed in comfy yoga pants. She glanced at herself in the mirror, as always sucking in her stomach to improve her profile, at least momentarily. She grabbed her go-bag and made the short drive to the hospital.
They all knew her on the OB floor. She was by far the most popular doula in the area. It had been hard at first. The older nurses were not eager to embrace what one of them called “all this hippie crap.” But gradually, as they’d seen what her presence could do for their patients, they’d mostly come around.
The ironic thing was that most doulas got interested in doing the work after giving birth themselves, but Julie had never had a child. She got her start by attending the first birth of her older sister, Jolene. Jolene’s husband, Ken, traveled for business a lot and couldn’t (or wouldn’t) commit to attending birthing classes with Jolene, so Julie had come along. She’d been only 17 when she’d calmly supported Jolene while she brought little Eddie into the world.
Julie never forgot what it was like to see her strong, beautiful sister give everything she had to birth her first baby. She had tried to tell some of her teenaged friends about it later, but none of them wanted to hear the details. They thought it was gross. But Julie had found the whole process beautiful and earth-shattering. She couldn’t wait to see another birth. Two years later, when Lizzie was born, Julie was again by her sister’s side. By then, she’d read more and had a better understanding of the mechanics of birth. It was still a miracle to her, though.
By the time Tori was born, Julie had her doula certification and had begun attending other births, and then when Georgie came along, she was an old hand at birth. Most of her college friends had weekend jobs at restaurants or in campus offices, but Julie attended one or two births a month, charging $500 for her services. Once in awhile she missed a class, but her instructors were usually understanding.
At the hospital, Julie stopped by the nurses station to let them know she was there. She had to wait, as they were busy answering endless questions and directing a 50-something woman and a 20-something man, probably her son, to the family waiting room. The woman had a lot of questions and Julie had time to study them as she waited. She didn’t recognize either of them and thought she’d definitely have remembered the guy if she’d met him before.
He was ridiculously adorable in a boyish way: tall and lanky, a cute face and the kind of glorious hair that belonged in a shampoo commercial. She wondered if it naturally looked like that, or if he went to great lengths to arrange it that way. By the casual, even sloppy style of his clothes, she guessed his look was natural. When they finally headed to the family waiting room, she greeted the nurses and they told her which birthing suite was Patty’s.
Patty had just gotten settled into her room. This was Patty’s second birth, but her first with Julie. For her first baby, she’d requested an epidural immediately. She had said she couldn’t imagine why anybody would put herself through agony for no good reason. But this time, after hearing the experiences of a few of her friends, she decided she’d like to try for a natural birth, so she and her husband had hired Julie.
Patty was in the middle of what looked to be a moderately strong contraction, so Julie waited until she was done before greeting her and getting up to speed on what was happening. All was well, but Patty was having second thoughts about natural birth.
“Do you really think I can do it? I mean, it’s already hurting a lot.”
“It’s normal to feel some pain, of course,” Julie said. “But I absolutely believe you can do it if you want to. And if you want to change your mind, you can. Our goal here today is for you to be happy with your birth, and I’ll help you with whatever choices you make.” It was a little speech Julie gave often — with nearly every client, actually.
Patty nodded, then her face screwed up as she started having another contraction. Julie took her hand and calmly reminded her to relax. Tightening up could make it worse. Patty’s face smoothed and she breathed through the pain. Then it was over.
“Good job. And remember, you only have to do one contraction at a time,” Julie reminded her. Patty’s husband was holding her other hand. Some husbands were resistant to the idea of having a doula present, because they wanted to be their wife’s only support. But even the most grudging husbands came around after a few contractions. Partners and doulas support birthing women in different ways, Julie always explained.
Patty’s nurse, Katherine, came in and gave Patty her first internal check.
“We’re at about a three,” Katherine said.
“Oh, no,” Patty said. “Only three? I’ve been in labor for hours!”
“We waited before coming in. We wanted to make sure she was pretty far along,” said Patty’s husband, Brad.
“It’s maybe a stretchy three,” Katherine said, offering what Julie could see was a forced smile.
“Remember, it’s not a steady progression. It can take a lot longer to get to four, and a lot of women fly through the last few centimeters,” Julie said. “We don’t want to get caught up in the numbers,” she said.
“That’s right,” Katherine said. She listened to the fetal heart tones, took Patty’s blood pressure and disappeared from the room again, apologizing that she was looking after several laboring mothers today.
“How about taking a little walk?” Julie suggested. “Walking is good for labor progression. We can just go up and down the halls for a little bit,” she said.
Patty agreed. She was in her hospital gown and slippers. Brad came along. It was slow progress. Every so often, Patty would have a contraction and would let herself sink against Brad, who would support her as she lightly moaned through each one. Julie told her she was doing great. Her experience told her things were revving up. Walking was far more productive for birthing women than lying on the bed and worrying constantly about what number they were at.
Patty went into a particularly hard contraction and again, Brad held her and let her moan against his shoulder. They were steps away from the family waiting room, and Mr. Shampoo Commercial burst out of it at the sound of Patty’s moans.
Brad stepped forward. “Enough, Nick. You’re not helping Patty like this.”
Mr. Shampoo Commercial — Nick — looked worried and upset, but ran his fingers through his glorious hair and stepped back. He offered a weak apology, but still appeared disturbed. Julie had seen such family outbursts before, and she knew they could destroy a birthing mother’s shaky confidence in herself.
“Sir, Patty is doing very well. Please return to the waiting room and someone will be out to talk to you in a minute.” She helped guide Patty back into the room and worked on making sure she was comfortable. She hid her anger and focused on Patty, who now seemed agitated.
“No worries, Patty. You’re doing great.” She turned to Brad. “Who was that?”
“Patty’s brother, Nick. Nick Hoffman. I’ll go talk to him and set him straight.”
“No, stay with me!” Patty said, clutching her husband’s hand.
Brad whispered to Julie that she should go and explain to Nick that he needed to be supportive, and that he’d be out to talk to him when Patty was a little calmer. Julie nodded. She stayed through another contraction and gently rubbed Patty’s shoulder.
“I’ll be right back, Patty. Brad will be with you the whole time,” Julie said. She slipped out of the room and headed to the family waiting room. Before she even got there, she could hear Nick Hoffman complaining loudly to the older woman — apparently Patty’s and his mother — that he felt his sister was being subjected needlessly to extra pain.
“For her first birth, she didn’t feel a thing! We were playing cards right up to the end. Now, she’s in there moaning in pain and I want that woman out of there. She’s not even a nurse, and it sounds like my sister is being tortured!”
“She said she wanted to go natural,” the woman said. “I don’t get it either, but it’s up to her, you know. Patty always did have her own ideas.”
“How can you just sit there calmly, while she’s in there suffering?” Nick asked.
“How do you think you got into the world?” the woman asked. “We lived half an hour from the hospital and I was making plenty of noise by the time we got there. Patty sounds like she’s having a pretty normal labor to me.”
“Mr. Hoffman?” Julie said, as she entered the room. She took a deep breath. “I’m Julie Simmons. Patty and Brad hired me to serve as their doula. I wanted to assure you Patty is doing well and to remind you of the importance of supporting her while she’s in labor.”
“Are you a nurse?” he asked, his manner challenging.
“I’m a nursing student and a certified doula, Mr. Hoffman. I’m qualified to serve in that capacity and am approved by the hospital to serve laboring women at their request. I do not provide medical care. Patty’s doctor and midwife and the hospital’s medical staff will handle all medical aspects of Patty’s birth.”
“I’m sorry, but what good are you then?”
Julie kept her voice and gaze calm, though inside she was furious.
“I really don’t have time right now to explain to you what a doula’s role is,” she said. “I’d be happy to speak to you later. But right now, I need to get back to Patty’s side. Brad asked me to tell you to please refrain from upsetting Patty any more today. It’s very important that laboring women feel calm and supported. I can assure you she’s receiving precisely the care she’s chosen for herself. I’m going to get back to her now.” Without another word, she turned away and walked down the hall to Patty’s room. What a jerk, she thought.
When she returned to the room, Patty’s whole manner had changed. Her labor had clearly advanced, but she seemed panicked and Brad looked lost.
“OK, Patty! You look to me like you’re really advancing. You’re probably getting close to transition. Remember, we talked about this? It’s the hardest part but it doesn’t last long. You’re doing great!”
“My back hurts so much,” Patty said.
“Let’s get you onto your hands and knees,” Julie suggested. She and Brad helped her change position, not an easy thing at this point. But they managed to complete the change before the next contraction hit.
“OK, Patty, I’m going to push on your back on your next contraction,” Julie said. She placed her hands firmly against Patty’s lower back and pushed hard. Patty moaned through a contraction, but when it was over, she looked surprised.
“That really helps,” she said.
“I am just betting Baby needs to wiggle into place a little better,” Julie said. She suspected the baby was posterior, but she didn’t want to worry Patty with that term. “Do you remember learning how to do the pelvic tilts? Arch your back like a cat. Now let it sag down.” She coached her through the movements and all the while, pushed on her lower back. Julie knew the spot well. It was the precise place she used to beg her ex-fiancé to push when she had bad menstrual cramps.
She maintained a steady pressure on Patty’s back during each contraction. Her arms were aching after the first hour, but she didn’t let on. She did show Brad how to put the right pressure on his wife’s back for a while so she could give her arms a little rest. The contractions were much closer together now, and Julie suspected the baby’s position had changed from posterior to anterior, speeding things up.
Just as she’d told Patty, things often went faster after the first few centimeters.
Katherine came in and asked to check Patty. Just judging from her behavior, Julie was sure Patty was nearly there, so she wasn’t surprised when Katherine said she was at a 9. But Katherine was. She clearly hadn’t expected the labor to have advanced as fast as it had.
“I’m going to call Dr. Russell! Don’t go anywhere!” Katherine said. Julie wasn’t sure where Katherine thought Patty was going to go — did she think she was going to take off to see a movie? But she held back her smile.
“I can’t do this!” Patty cried. It was something nearly every mother said at this point, and Julie soothed her. “You’re doing fantastic, Patty. You’re nearly there. The hard part is going to be over very soon. How’s your back feel?”
“Better,” Patty said. “Except not when I’m having a — oh, God, here comes another one!” Julie stepped up the positive reinforcement. “Good job, Patty! That’s a good one!”
Brad took his cue from Julie and offered encouragement. “You’re doing great, babe. I’m so proud of you. You’re amazing!”
“I need to push!” Patty said.
“Hold on,” Julie said. “Your doctor is on his way.” Experience told her that when an unmedicated woman said she needed to push, it meant her body was ready to do it, but officially, she couldn’t encourage her to push until her doctor had OK’d it. That didn’t mean her body wouldn’t do it anyway, of course. Most of her clients opted for epidurals and in many cases they needed to be told when to push, but without an epidural, the urge was strong. Julie would bet good money that Patty was at 10 centimeters now.
Fortunately, Dr. Russell, Katherine, and another nurse came bustling into the room just then. A quick check confirmed Patty was ready to push, which was good, because there was no power on earth that could have kept her from it for long. This being Patty’s second baby, Julie expected that the birth was imminent. She and Brad kept offering encouragement and physical touch, and Patty sweated and moaned.
Then she bore down, let out a scream, and pushed out a dark-haired little boy. Dr. Russell placed him directly in Patty’s arms and mother and child locked eyes. The baby was crying a little, and so were both his parents. Julie congratulated them and helped Patty get her new son positioned for his first meal as Katherine placed pre-warmed blankets over them both.
“Hey, little Jameson,” Patty said. “Welcome to Earth!”
“Jameson. Now that’s a nice name,” Katherine said. “We’ll wait
to weigh little Jameson until he’s finished his first meal. I’m going to guess about 8 pounds.
“First Apgar is a 9,” Dr. Russell said to the other nurse. “I’d say 10, but I don’t give 10s.” Julie reminded Patty that the Apgar score was just a measure of the baby’s breathing, color and general wellness at birth. A 9 was great, she said.
“He’s really beautiful. And look at how alert he is,” Julie said. “He’s really looking at you!”
“That wasn’t hard at all,” Patty said. “I can’t wait to do this again!” She looked elated.
“Why don’t we think about it for a little bit first,” Brad said with a laugh.
“This is better than when I ran the marathon,” Patty said. “I feel invincible!” Her face was glowing.
“You really did great,” Julie said. “I knew you would. Shall I take some pictures now?” She removed her camera from her bag and took a series of shots of Patty, Brad and Jameson together.
“We’ll wait a bit before inviting your family in,” Katherine said. “Let’s just deal with the afterbirth and do a bit of cleaning up. Won’t be long now.” She was right. Patty barely noticed.
She was completely involved in gazing at her son, who had stopped nursing and was quietly looking around with his big blue eyes. Katherine said she needed to perform some of the routine newborn procedures. Jameson protested with cries and squeals when he was taken out of his mother’s arms.
“Eight pounds, 2 ounces. I was pretty close!” Katherine said. “And 19 inches long. Has all his fingers and toes, too,” she joked. “Ready for me to call your mom and brother in?” Patty agreed.
Julie said she’d be leaving, not wanting another encounter with the brother.
“No, please stay for just a minute,” Patty said. Julie felt intensely uncomfortable at the thought of talking to Patty’s brother again, but she nodded. She pretended to be busy packing her gear while Patty’s mother and brother admired little Jameson.
“Nick, you owe Julie an apology,” Patty said.